The Chase
by Elanor
Summary: But looking back on it all now I at least know why he killed me. I wasn’t just a number; I was the one that counted, the one who started everything off. Blaise Zabini looks down upon his last moments on earth from the great beyond.


I ran down that corridor faster than I had ever run in my life, running from him, he was after me. Mind you, he was after everyone. It wasn't just the mudblood's anymore; he'd gone insane and decided he wanted total power; which apparently didn't include anyone else on the earth. I was running, just like others had and just like others would after me. My effort was not particularly important in the whole outcome I didn't think, but it was my life; and I bloody well wanted it intact. My lungs tore up as I forced myself onwards, through Hogwarts castle. It was ironic if you thought about it; Dumbledore's rebellion was based there, yet all it took was one push from the dark side and it was theirs. I was in the enemy's camp and I knew I wasn't coming out alive. I knew that the moment I had the idea. No one had ever come out alive and I wasn't about to be the first. I looked behind me as I ran on; I could see his shadow following. He was faster, he was gaining on me. God only knew what sort of jacked up spells he'd put on himself to make him what he was. His power exceeded that of the castle and he could do anything he wanted. To be honest, I didn't really know why I was running, it was fun for him; he liked the chase, I knew that he could kill me with a click of his fingers if he wanted. I cast a disillusionment charm on myself as I ran; looking back I don't have the faintest idea why I did it.

I looked back again, he seemed to only be walking, but he was closer than before, he was only twenty feet away now. Even now I can't figure out how he got that much power, at the time it was just accepted, he was Voldemort therefore he was evil and all powerful. It was the known thing and no one would believe it any other way. He was smiling to himself in a sick, manipulative sort of way that spoke volumes, saying quite plainly, "I'm going to win, but it was fun all the same." I ran faster, but somehow he seemed to slow me. I shouldn't really have been surprised in hindsight, but it bloody well buggered me up then. I screamed, not caring who heard, I was beyond caring; in that past few seconds I had realised that I was going to die and it really hit home at that moment.

Five feet away, drawing ever closer, his face expressionless. I didn't know for how long I had been running at that point, but quite suddenly, I stopped. I couldn't outrun him, he could kill me at any second, and at that moment in time I was willing. For one moment the icy Slytherin barrier fell, I wasn't the quiet one at the back of the class; I wasn't the one no one knew. I was in my blank form, the form where my emotions were displayed starkly on my sleeve, falling into sharp relief to what was going on around me. I stopped dead and turned to face him. I thought at that moment I might scream again, he was the ugliest bugger I'd ever seen. His face broke into a wide, evil grin, cracked blood on his robes and chipping away on his mouth, he looked like some fucked up vampire snake cross, trust that jackass to be messing with God. He thought he had the right, he thought he was a God, that's why he liked the fact no one could speak his name. In short, he was up himself. Tom Riddle got up to his eyeballs in dark arts, that by the end the power had gone to his head was twice its usual size. Quite suddenly the scene shifted and the very walls around us were crumbling, caving in onto us, and mirroring my mind. He didn't even blink, yet I'm sure it was him who did that, who else could it have been?

"You were fun Blaise, I almost regret this." His voice was filled with happiness, a strange thing, considering he was about to kill, but hey, that was him.

"You ran far Blaise, why?" what do you say to devil?

"Now you mention it; I was feeling a bit flabby, thought I needed to loose a bit of weight." Well, I couldn't have been in any deeper shit, may as well mess with him a bit.

He looked at me blankly for an age, then,

"You ran because you were scared."

"No"

"Why then?"

"I ran because I think you're an arsehole, to get away from you, you ugly blighter," Blaise was getting starting to get worked up, "I ran because I thought it was right, I RAN BECAUSE I WANTED TO, AND YOU _DIDN'T_ STOP ME!"

There was a pause after that, a weighty silence in which he looked at me. Then without saying anything, without making a move; he killed me.

But looking back on it all now I at least know why he killed me. I wasn't just a number; I was the one that counted, the one which started everything off.

He was scared. And that lead to his downfall. For once in my life; I made the difference, I started the cycle, I sewed the scene, and I fulfilled my destiny. And I was happy with it all.


End file.
